


smaller than i've been

by hipsquare



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Abuse, Dubious Consent, F/F, Humiliation, Mother/daughter incest, Omorashi, Parent/Child Incest, Pseudo-Incest, Tentacles, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hipsquare/pseuds/hipsquare
Summary: Shadow Weaver gives Catra a peculiar demand before one of her raids. When Catra returns from her mission, she gets more than what she bargained for.
Relationships: Catra/Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	smaller than i've been

“And where do you think it is you’re going, Force Captain?”

The sound of Shadow Weaver’s voice was enough to make Catra’s tail puff up. A shiver went up her spine and caused the fur of her arms to stick up, prickly. Usually, Catra would simply turn from Shadow Weaver and walk away, but it was hard to do so with her current… state. A state that Shadow Weaver herself had ordered. It still left Catra confused, and she honestly was not in the mood for whatever it was Shadow Weaver had planned for her. And why _did_ she have those plans in the first place? Catra’s mission raid had gone perfectly. It wasn’t as if she messed up today (and it wasn’t as if she ever messed up badly enough to ever warrant Shadow Weaver’s punishments, anyways).

Still, Catra had _some_ fight left in her. Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio quickly fled the locker room that Shadow Weaver intercepted the group in, and Catra cursed them in the back of her mind as she turned to Shadow Weaver. _Cowards,_ she thought silently as she turned to face Shadow Weaver. _Maybe if you had the guts to stick around, I wouldn’t be cornered like this all the time..._

Shadow Weaver’s figure used to intimidate her — she was so much older, taller... but nowadays, it was _Catra_ who had the upper-hand. Mostly. Catra had Hordak’s favor, while Shadow Weaver was steadily losing it with each day that passed them by. Now that Catra thought more about the situation, that was probably the reason Shadow Weaver felt this cruel act was suited for Catra. Shadow Weaver always _did_ like to punish her for her own shortcomings.

“What is it this time, Shadow Weaver?” Catra said once she faced the older woman, though she couldn’t help the slightly uncomfortable quiver in her tone underneath the irritation. _Damn it,_ Catra cursed herself. “What do you even want?”

Shadow Weaver folded her hands in front of her red robes. Her black hair floated above her, elevated by the magical power that she possessed. Catra’s under-eye twitched slightly, her patience running thin, especially with the ever-growing pressure in her abdomen.

“You would do good to mind your _manners_ ," Shadow Weaver hissed. If she were talking to _Adora,_ the words would’ve been spoken sweetly, but since it was Catra, there was venom laced in her husky tone. “You shouldn’t answer a question with a question, Catra… now _answer_ me.” Shadow Weaver’s voice melted into a lull once more. “Where do you think you’re running off to?”

 _Does she really want me to say it?_ Catra shifted her legs in a way she thought was subtle, trying to ward off the uncomfortable, growing heat inside of her lower half. It was times like these where Catra was glad she couldn’t see Shadow Weaver’s face, couldn’t see whether or not she’d caught the way she wriggled around. _What’s her aim?_

“I was heading to the bathroom, old lady,” Catra grit her teeth, baring her sharp fangs. “Since you told me I couldn’t go on the mission. Remember?”

 _That_ was the ordeal at hand.  
  
Shadow Weaver stopped Catra before her mission today and told her that she wasn’t to use the bathroom the entire time. It was fine at the start of the day, but it was morning when the mission began, and it was now nighttime. Catra thought she could’ve snuck a quick trip to relieve herself, but Shadow Weaver had reminded her that she had shadow spies everywhere. She’d curled her claws into Catra’s shoulders and whispered that fact into her ear, reminding her that far _worse_ would happen if Catra didn’t comply with her desires.

“Ah, yes,” Shadow Weaver replied with a sigh, as if it was completely normal and not at all weird for her to request from Catra. “You actually listened for once in your life and managed to hold onto it all day. I’d be almost _impressed_ if I wasn’t completely repulsed.”

Catra’s eyebrows twitched, and she balled her fists up. She wanted to lunge at Shadow Weaver, wanted to scratch that face that lingered underneath the mask. Most of all, she wanted to use the bathroom. She didn’t have time for this.

“ _Repulsed?_ Seriously? _You’re_ the one who wanted me to… hold it! As if _that_ isn’t freakin’ weird?” Catra grumbled with true, genuine vexation. “I did what you asked, now get out of my way!”

Catra tried to shove her way past Shadow Weaver, but Shadow Weaver grabbed Catra by the arm swiftly. Catra winced and hissed, but Shadow Weaver shoved her back into one of the lockers. Catra hit it with a clunk, and her heterochromatic eyes stretched wide open. “Ugh!” Catra groaned, feeling her bladder ache with the force of how hard she hit the locker. Still, she held it desperately. She couldn’t… she couldn’t _go_ here. “ _What_ is your problem?!”

Shadow Weaver’s eyes turned to wicked slits. “I don’t believe I ever told you that you could simply relieve yourself whenever you’d like,” she said, her claws still gripped to Catra tightly. “Or _wherever_ you’d like, rather. If you want to go, then do it here. In front of me.”  
  
“H-Huh?” Catra’s heart began to thump quickly inside of her. In fact, it pounded so hard that it began to resound in her brain as soon as it started up, making her dizzy. “A— are you actually serious? What the hell kind of sick game is this?”

Shadow Weaver released Catra before she straightened her body, peering down at her with a leer.

“I do not joke, or play games. You know this, Catra,” Shadow Weaver said almost mockingly, her voice a sickly coo to Catra’s ears. “You have to go _desperately,_ don’t you?” Shadow Weaver’s voice… it was almost… seductive. “There’s no point in holding it any longer, is there? It must be so painful for you — so very _full_ inside.”

Catra began to panic the more that Shadow Weaver continued to speak to her. Heat tickled her nose to the very tips of her ears, making her face redden, and she crossed her legs to keep herself from actually peeing on the floor of the locker room. 

“I— I don’t want to do it here!” Suddenly, Catra felt so very… little. So very _small_ compared to Shadow Weaver, in a way that she hadn’t felt in months. She felt genuinely as if she was worth nothing in comparison to the woman before her, and that’s what Shadow Weaver _wanted._ “Please, Shadow Weaver, please don’t make me!”

She was begging her. Pathetic. She usually just took it, but this was… new. It was weird, and uncomfortable, and she didn’t want to do it.

Shadow Weaver’s form glowed vaguely, before it then darkened. From the bottom of her robes formed black, gooey tentacles, that of which spread across the floor and gripped Catra’s ankles before she even had a chance to blink or run. As quickly as the tendrils had gripped her, they spread Catra’s knees open forcefully. As Catra was pried open and made vulnerable, she felt her abdomen ache deeply with her impending finish.

“You will do as I say, Catra,” Shadow Weaver sounded strangely calm in comparison to how angry and threatening she’d been earlier. “Do not make this harder than it has to be.”

Catra’s bottom lashes finally gathered with tears. She whimpered helplessly, and even with Shadow Weaver’s mask on, she felt her eyes intently on her form. Could this be any more humiliating than Shadow Weaver had made it for her? She was in a completely exposed position, pinned to the locker with nowhere to go… with nothing to do but give in to what Shadow Weaver demanded of her.

“Shadow Weaver, _please…_ don’t make me...”

Catra’s voice was a weak plea for mercy before her body finally forced her to release what had built up in her bladder.

A hot warmth trickled between Catra’s trembling thighs, soaking her bottoms. It spread quickly, from her crotch-area down her pants, to the floor of the locker room. Catra couldn’t hear the trickle of the liquid between the sound of her mortified sniveling and the persistent ringing in her ears, but from the way Shadow Weaver tilted her head down just slightly — Catra knew she was making quite the scene, just like Shadow Weaver wanted.

It took what felt like hours for Catra to finish peeing herself. She couldn’t even press her legs back together after she was empty, because Shadow Weaver’s tentacles still had a grip on her ankles. She was wide open, panting softly from both the relief and shame.

Shadow Weaver made no sound. She didn’t laugh at Catra, nor did she scoff. Instead, she floated towards Catra, guided by dark magic, tightening her tendril’s grips on her ankles. Catra whimpered softly again. Tears had dribbled down Catra’s face, making her fur sticky. 

Shadow Weaver cupped Catra’s cheek with her palm.

“That wasn’t very hard at all, was it?” Shadow Weaver asked, her voice like honey… the same way she’d sound when she would fawn over Adora. Strangely enough, deep inside of Catra, past the mortification and disgrace, she felt almost… _happy,_ that such a tone was _finally_ directed at her instead of Adora. As she cried and shook, she relished in the sensation of having her cheek stroked by her.

But just as quickly as that slight affection came from Shadow Weaver, it was gone. Shadow Weaver gripped Catra’s wet cheeks between thumb and forefinger, an aggressive motion that almost hurt.

“Now get yourself cleaned up. And wipe up this floor before the others see. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that, would you… _Force Captain?_ ”

Shadow Weaver’s tentacles retreated from Catra’s ankles, and Catra fell to the floor with a pathetic, pained yip once her bottom hit the tile. She didn’t have it in her to curse at Shadow Weaver for dropping her. Her energy was drained, her body weak; her mind unable to process the emotions that surged through her brain.

Shadow Weaver disappeared into the door adjacent to the locker room without another word to spare. 

Catra stared at the puddle she made, her ears flattening against her skull in displeasure. She really should clean that up… 

**Author's Note:**

> this was titled "catra goes peepee" in my docs


End file.
